Born to be Wild? Nope.

I am a teacher. I may dream of other careers, think about how exciting they might be and what adventures I could have, but there's not doubt in my mind that encoded in my DNA it says - This one's a teacher.

It really doesn't matter if I'm in my high school classroom or presenting to other teachers or rolling around in the floor with the preschoolers at church, I love to see the light of recognition, that "light bulb moment."

I teach sixth grade Sunday School at the church I attend, and much to my surprise, they are a hoot! I expected it to be tough, but to tell you the truth, it's a cake walk compared to some of  my high school English classes. Oh don't get me wrong. They have their moments, but the love that God has given me for these little brothers and sisters overwhelms me in a way that I had not imagined.

Tomorrow is the evangelical focus lesson for this series of lessons, and as I prepared to teach them, the Spirit urged me to read the verses again. I need to know where the WORD proclaims the truths that the A B Cs of Salvation teach. So, I did, and in doing so was blessed again with the mysterious simplicity of the plan of salvation.

We're reading the story of King David. David had a relationship with God that blows my mind. He wasn't a priest or a prophet. He was a soldier and a king. He operated in the worldly realm, making worldly decisions and getting his hands dirty, really dirty. Yet David had this intimate relationship with the Father as evidenced by the Psalms he wrote. And David, like the rest of us, sinned. He blew it big time in spite of his closeness with God. When confronted with that sin, David grieved. He admitted his sin. He believed God could forgive. He confessed that sin in prayers and songs that are preserved to this day in the book of Psalms.

In order for David to be forgiven, he had to go through the elaborate ritual of sacrifice that was part of Old Testament life. You and I don't have to endure that part because we have the ultimate sacrifice in Jesus. As I looked up verses for my sixth graders, scouring the list for the most simple wording, this is what I found...

Admit -
Romans 3:23 ...all have sinned...

Believe
I John 2:2 ...He (Jesus) Himself is the propitiation (or substitute) for our sins

Confess
I John 1:9 ...If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

The apostle John speaks later about how gratitude for that "saving" from the punishment that we really should receive (the punishment of death that is required for all who sin) should impact our behavior, but our behavior has nothing at all to do with the "saving" part. That's all Jesus. How simple and yet how mind-blowing.

Maybe you have accepted the gift of salvation already and you can rejoice with me. Maybe you are like a former student with whom I spoke this week who is in search mode, looking for a truth to live by. Maybe you are among the millions of other people who think that if they are "good" that will be enough to save them in the end. To quote Beth Moore - it will never be enough.

I think about my own life. The years I spent trying to fill a God-sized hole in my heart with teaching. With righteous behavior and in frustration at my inability to act righteously, with sin. It was never enough. It's like trying to sweeten your iced tea with flour (which just makes a goopy iced tea colored mess - don't try it at home). Oh, the difference when I learned to accept the gift Jesus so graciously offered and put it on like a new coat and live in it, roll around in the beauty of it, marvel at the perfection of it and allow it to warm me and change me.

Whoever you are, right here, right now, won't you accept His gift, too? That gift is yours for the taking. No sin, big or small, has the power to separate you from Jesus if you confess it. Truth be told, it's what we were really born to do.

Evangelizing the Guy at the Next Table

When my co-teachers suggested that we take our sixth graders to McDonalds for breakfast and Sunday School, it sounded like a fun idea. It didn't occur to me at the time that there would be other people in McDonald's.

If you know me very well, you know that my teacher voice is loud and proud. I don't need a mic at Honors Night to be heard. As a matter of fact, I don't think I need a mic anywhere. It's a good thing because McDonald's is a little loud on Sunday morning.

Once the kids had finished eating and had done their warm-up, I launched into our lesson on prayer - from the diaphragm. There were lots of distractions, so I really had to work to keep the kids' attention. As I went through the notes I had prepared, the Holy Spirit prompted me to include a couple of other things about prayer (using the salt and pepper shakers as visual aids no less). It worked out well because I was able to talk about our freedom as Americans to talk about Jesus and prayer in McDonalds as a segue to share some information I had found on Voice of the Martyrs about persecution of Christians around the world. Once we were finished, Jeff took over again to do the worksheets. It was then that I glanced to our right.

There were three dour-looking gentleman at the table next to ours. I smiled and said hello and one nodded at me.  It occurred to me that there was a better than average chance that they were in McDonald's (and not in church) for a reason. All of a sudden, our Sunday School outing had become a missionary journey. Once I made it back to church, I texted DW about our experience and told him that I had taught three elderly gentlemen, whether they wanted to be taught or not, as well our sixth-graders. Those gentlemen found their way into my praise and into my prayers as I sat in worship this morning.

I don't always do well in the talking to strangers department, but Jesus showed me today that I can do well in the talking around strangers department. As DW and I are out and about, the conversations that we have (in my louder than usual voice) can deliver the gospel message to the guy at the next table, the checker who scans our groceries or the lady beside us in the doctor's office waiting room. We can be purposeful in our conversations, making sure that we talk about spiritual things in the middle of our daily routines.

I'm praying that that what we discussed in sixth grade Bible study stirred up memories in those gentlemen of a time when they were little boys in Sunday School or a mother who taught them to pray. I'm praying that some little bit of what they heard sticks with them, nags at them and drives them to church next Sunday instead of to McDonalds because they heard the lesson, whether they wanted to or not.

The Waiting Room

Listened to the Beth Moore video that Pastor Chris recommended at church last night. (It was truly dynamite by the way.) On the side there was a link to a Francis Chan video from the same conference. The title was God is Faithful (or something similar), and since we are in waiting mode with our youngest and her husband, I decided to watch it.

Let me preface the rest of this by saying with honesty, I do not wait well. I get an idea and jump in with both feet. I fidget at the doctor's office, the dentist's office and while waiting for trains to clear the road. I'm not very good at doing nothing (which is not be to be confused with not being good at wasting time because I am EXCELLENT at that). As such, I always want to "fix it." I love finding ways to help God out (in spite of the fact that I cut my teeth on stories of Sarah and Rachel and all those other wives and mommas who tried to "help" God fulfill his plan). On more than one occasion God has had to send me a message to remind me that he didn't really need my "help" on this one thanks for offering anyway.

But I digress.

Francis Chan's video addressed several issues, but the one that's rolling around in my head is the idea of trust. He talked about how he just doesn't trust people completely (probably smart from my own personal experience - people have a way of stomping your trust in the ground and grinding it down into the dirt with their heels sometimes). Unfortunately, he said that his lack of trust in people sometimes bleeds over into a lack of trust in God. Definitely food for thought.

I would never say I don't trust God, but I'm afraid that my actions say it for me sometimes. Enter my need to "fix" things. I bet I've come up with half a dozen half-baked ideas for "helping" Andy and Dena as they wait for God to open the next door for ministry.  The truth of the matter is God doesn't need my help. He knows where the door is. He has the key in his hand. He will unlock it when the time is right and not until then.

The kids may have to live through some uncertain times until then. Satan will probably do his utmost to discourage them during the waiting - I know he's been working overtime on me - but in spite of Satan's attacks and my own impatience, there are only two choices. Trust - or - don't.

Last night and then again this morning, I was led (first by our pastor and then by Beth Moore) to look at the detail with which God planned our redemption. All the pieces fit together perfectly. Everything fell into place at just the right time. God perfectly orchestrated every detail of both the old covenant and the new and the way the first is a reflection of the second. He arranged the prophecies. He sent His very own Son to be our substitute and having sent Him, allowed His crucifixion at the point in time that would create the most highly symbolic comparison for future generations imaginable.  

Having gone to all the time and trouble to save us, it's a little ridiculous to assume that he won't provide an avenue for us to serve Him. (It would make about as much sense as buying a new lawn mower and then leaving it in the garage while the weeds overtake the yard).

My wonderful son-in-law loves God with his whole heart. He is a uniquely gifted song-writer, musician and speaker. God has a place of service for him, and He will place Andy and Dena there if they continue to make themselves available, and He will meet their immediate needs in the meantime. No matter how many hard knocks their trust in people have taken, they can trust God completely (and so can I) because for Him to fail us is against His very nature.

We spent the afternoon at Donnie's parents' home. It was the house where he grew up, where he took me as his bride, where his mother passed on to her eternal life in Heaven. When his dad remarried, they moved into his new wife's home and tried to consolidate their belongings. Many of "his" possessions remained at the farm.

Now the house is to be torn down to make way for a new home for one of the grandsons and his family, including the little one who is Afton's namesake. They will build a new home where new children will grow up, marry, and eventually join their grandmother in Heaven.

Such is life.

I think of that old hymn, "This world is not my home. I'm just passing through..."

It's truer than I realized when I was young and my children were younger. I was just beginning the journey and had little time for imagining its end. But sorting through my mother-in-law's life, her photos and keepsakes, her dishes and household items, reminds me that I, too, am destined to pass on through, and that all these things around me that seem to have so much importance will be little more than something for my girls to have to sort through.

For those who place their stock and store in things, I guess that's a pretty grim picture. Luckily, my mother-in-law wasn't that kind of person. Her true legacy is the faith I see in her son's life, the way he treats me because his mother taught him how to treat a woman with love and respect. Her legacy is the example she set for her daughters and granddaughters and one renegade daughter-in-law of grace and beauty and faith. There was always room at their table. There was always laughter, even in the difficult times. And for me, who came to them down a shameful, difficult road, there was immediate acceptance without judgment and true and unmitigated love. It was like cold spring water in the middle of a desert.

I'll miss the old house, but to tell you the truth it's not the same anymore. Dad's new home is with a good and godly woman who makes him happy. A new family has been born of two old ones. It's not the same, but it's good in the way God makes things good for those who love and serve Him.

As for me, I hope that my daughters, their husbands and children think  of me like we think of Donnie's mom. I want them to cling to what I taught them. I hope the life I live is setting the example of a godly woman. I hope they remember my life with smiles and laughter and cling to that, not an item of jewelry or a piece of furniture because in the end, that will only be something for their children to sort through. A legacy of faith is another story. It never gets old or goes out of style. It's the heirloom with eternal value.